


Take-off

by Fish71022, shadowspirit (Phoenix7)



Series: Flying Without Wings [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon GO
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 02:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12520548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fish71022/pseuds/Fish71022, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix7/pseuds/shadowspirit
Summary: the legendary bird trio have been spotted.far apart, and with scars from a recent encounter.they seek refuge in three places, and are found by another trio -the trio who don't know each other, who are quite separate, and yetthe fate of the three birds has unknowingly passed into their hands.





	1. storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fish71022](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fish71022/gifts).



> inspired by Fish71022 and teammystinct (tumblr)

It was dark. A storm brewed outside, with huge drops of water crashing down as well as loud claps of thunder. The occasional lightning bolt streaked down from the midnight sky.   
He was glad to be indoors, for once, besides the fact that he was terribly lost. He stared out at the raging storm. There was no way he would be getting anywhere in this weather. Without anything else to do, he decided to take a look at his surroundings.    
It was too dark to see anything, but he seemed to be in a building of some sort. It was completely silent, and the air had a musty smell. When he rubbed his palm on the ground, he could feel the dirt on his hand. He dusted it off on his shorts, standing up. It felt eerie, and not because of the dark. Even though he could be certain that he was the only person in the building, he felt like he was being watched.   
The next flash of lightning caught him off guard, and he jumped. By the bright light, he could see a door on the other side of the room he was in. He could also see exactly how run-down the building was. There was some machinery here and there, but none of them looked like they would work. Using the next lightning bolt, he made his way through the door.    
He found himself in a room with a lot of panels, which were covered in buttons. In the dark, he ran his hand over some of them. They would have been interesting if not for the blanket of dust that had settled on them.    
What was interesting, though, was the small flash of yellow light coming from beyond the doorway opposite him.   
He followed it, using the panels to guide himself, and remembering how the room had looked like when the next streak of lightning shot down from the brewing clouds. When he went through the best doorway, he saw it. It was round, and the top half of its body was red, while the bottom half was white. It was sparking with electricity, and looked angry.   
"Voltorb Vol Torb," it snapped as he came in, rolling towards him.   
"Hey, cool it, buddy," he said, taking a step backwards. "I won't hurt you."   
The Voltorb stopped inches from him, still sparking. He knelt down to its height, reaching out to touch it. There was a prick on his fingers, and he felt the Pokemon relaxing.   
"Full of static, huh?" He laughed, and the Voltorb joined in with a metallic giggle.    
"Vol Torb Voltorb Volt?" It asked.   
"Why am I here?" He repeated, confused. "I don't know. But I can't go out with the storm like this, so I guess I'm staying."   
The Voltorb stared at him for a while, then started to roll away.   
"Hey, wait!" He ran after it, following its light, running through deserted rooms and equally deserted hallways. Finally, they reached a hallway with a strong yellow light glowing in a room near the end. The Voltorb stopped, nudging him from behind.   
"You want me to go in?" He asked, and it seemed to nod. "Is there someone inside who can help me?" It nodded again, but didn't roll forward.   
"Do I have to go in by myself?" It nodded once more, nudging his legs before moving backwards.   
He took a few steps into the hallway, not taking his eyes off the room with the light. When he reached it, he stopped at the doorway and peeped in. He'd expected to find another person in the room, but definitely not a gigantic Pokemon. It was a lot taller than him, its spiky head brushing the ceiling. Its sharp talons could surely rip him apart if it wanted. Its body was glowing yellow with electricity.   
He took a tentative step in, and the bird turned to stare at him with its huge brown eyes. He wished it would be less intimidating, but if this Pokemon would be able to help him get home...   
"Umm... hello," he said, his voice coming out like a squeak. "My name is Spark."   
It was more than a little unsettling when the huge bird seemed to understand him.   
"I'm... I'm lost. I can't go home because of the storm. Can you help me?"   
The bird blinked at him. Then it screeched loudly. It was saying something, and he could understand it perfectly.    
"I'm... a boy. A human."   
The bird screeched again, sounding angry. It spread its large wings to fill the room, making his hair stand on end. He stumbled backwards, hitting a wall of the room and freezing in place. He understood its words perfectly, as though they were speaking the same language. Something had attacked this Pokemon. Someone. A group of humans had tried to capture both this Pokemon and its two siblings, and though it had escaped unharmed, it didn't yet know the fate of the others. It looked angry on the outside, but he could tell that it was just shocked, and scared.    
"I'm not with them, I promise," he said, his voice shaking. "I won't hurt you." He turned around, hoping that the bird wouldn't do anything to him. "I don't have anything with me. But I really am lost, and I want to get home. My friend- Voltorb- said you could help me. So... will you please help me get home?"   
The bird was silent, still fixing him with that awful stare.    
"I - well, it's okay if... if you don't want to help me... I - I'll go and ask someone else... it's just that I don't want my family to be worried, so I wanted to get home as soon as possible, but -" There was a movement in front of him, and he looked up. The bird was right in front of him, and though it was still staring, its eyes were kind.   
He reached out slowly, finally resting his hand on its beak. It was warm under his hands, and sparked with static just like Voltorb had.    
"Thank you," he whispered, not knowing if it was his own excitement or the bird's electricity that sent a prickle down his spine.   
Outside, the storm ceased.   



	2. snow

So the rumours were true. There really was a Pokemon residing in these frigid mountains. And here it was now.    
But the rumours had failed to explain why the majestic Titan of Ice lay before her now, the sleek feathers she had seen on it in the pictures dull and stained with blood.   
The freezing, biting wind did nothing to ease its condition, and its red eyes were half closed. She reached out, laying a hand on the cold crystals on its forehead.   
When she'd first started climbing the mountain, she had taken off the light blue and white coat she was wearing - the mysterious Pokemon had been said to appear only to those who were freezing on mountains. Now, they were both in the same situation- freezing.   
She unfolded her coat, rummaging in its pockets and pulling out a spray bottle filled with a golden liquid. The Pokemon watched her every move, seeming alert and wary despite its injuries. When she tried to spray some of the liquid onto its wounds, it thrashed in the snow, sending sprays of it flying everywhere. She brushed off the snow that had landed on her hair and clothes, and stood up. Now, even with her petite figure, she was taller than the bird.   
She held up the bottle, saying slowly and carefully, "This is a Super Potion. It's designed to treat injuries. I don't know who hurt you, but I want to help." She knelt down again, gently touching the three crystals in its forehead. The Pokemon let her spray the golden potion onto one of its wounds, but began thrashing again when it felt the stinging sensation that would come before the wound's recovery.    
Then it stopped, twisting its head around to stare at the spot where she had sprayed the potion. The wound there was disappearing, and the feathers in the area were slowly turning to their usual icy blue. It quietened down, allowing her to treat the rest of its injuries. The snowstorm calmed into a light powder, and through the snow she could make out the darkening sky.    
"Can you fly?" She asked, and it stirred. It stood up, seemingly understanding her. It was a lot taller than she was, and its ice blue plumage seemed to glow in the half-light. She could see dancing spots of light reflected off the snow and onto the crystals in its forehead. It was beautiful, even more so than what the legends told. But when it spread its wings, only one was held aloft. The other, it held lower, as though something about that wing was hurting it.

When it placed its wings down, she moved its cold feathers aside, finding bruises covering its wide wingspan. The bird was watching her every movement carefully, its red eyes seeming to glow in the steadily darkening atmosphere. She met its eyes, a horrified expression settling on her face like a shadow, before flitting away. “Who  _ did _ this to you?”

The bird only blinked, continuing to watch her intently.

When she next checked the time, the sun had long gone down - it was way too late to try the perilous voyage down the mountainside. Besides, she felt like she had to stay with the bird - it was injured, after all, and the weather on the mountain was known to be quite unpredictable. Her hands and fingers were numb from being out in the cold air, and not wearing her coat didn’t help, either. Realising that the bird was in no shape to face her in battle, she put it back on, sitting down on the soft snow, watching the night sky and thinking.

Meeting this Pokemon at last had seemed, for a long time, to be the end of a journey. She hadn’t even thought about what would happen  _ after _ she found it. It was known to be so elusive, able to hide itself and assist travellers from a distance, and to date no one had ever recorded it being injured. This Pokemon, especially - had seemed too high and too far out of her reach, even though all the legends and stories could never satisfy her hunger for new knowledge. 

She’d followed the trail of this Pokemon for a long time, and had scaled the mountain because of a story that one of the people she met on the way told her. But now that she had finally found it, there was no sense of euphoria, or even pleasure. Finding it had been only the first step in a long journey - like the door that opened only other doors. Finding it badly injured had only served to prove that no matter what, there was always something else to chase. No matter how much humans had learnt about their Pokemon counterparts, there was always something new to discover. Just like the areas where the sea was too deep to reach, even using Dive, and the islands that sparked so many fables but had hardly been seen, every Pokemon held its own story to tell. There was no such thing as knowing too much, let alone knowing everything. 

Then there were those others, who degraded knowledge, treating it as a stepping stone - not to wisdom, but to power. They would do anything to make sure that they could get what they wanted, be it money, world dominance, or other purposes. Nothing, not even the authorities, could stand up to their might. A new thought formed in her head, dragging her back to the present, and the swirling world around her.

What if that was what had happened to this Pokemon?

But she had no way to ask it, and no way that anyone outside of the culprits who would have any knowledge of this. Pokemon like this one were so rare and hardly seen, that it would have not been noticed had it gone missing. Which, of course, made it easier for those who were looking to do something to it, to hurt it without being caught. No one would realise.

Later, in the middle of the night, the bird opened one red eye. It turned its head towards the slight pressure on its body, and stopped. The human who had come up the mountain before was leaning lightly against its side, snow settling on her already silvery hair and pale skin. It stared at her small form, realising suddenly that even in her sleep, she was trembling with cold. 

The bruises on its wing were almost completely healed. It quietly lifted the wing, trying not to wake her, and placed it down again over her like a blanket, drawing her closer in towards the warmth of its body, as snow continued to drift down.


	3. flame

The small town was jolted awake in the morning by a surprise heat wave. No one knew how, or why. It was just sweltering hot that day, with sun glaring in through everyone’s windows and reflecting off every smooth surface it could find. The weather was especially strange because mornings were usually cool in that area, with light breezes tiptoeing through the town and whispering around corners. That day, the breeze never came.

The residents of the town were distracted from their hot morning when a high-pitched scream came from the heart of the town, in the square. It was high enough to cause one’s hair to stand up, and filled with fear… and something else. Something like  _ wonder _ .

The people gathered, following the direction of the scream and forming a crowd at the edge of the square. It wasn’t a particularly large crowd, but so thick that someone right in the centre would see only the shoes of those around him instead of the pavement, and, if that someone were particularly short, only others’ heads and shoulders instead of the sky.

Among them, in that crowd, was a small girl with dark hair and eyes that were full of life.

The girl dodged her way through to the front of the crowd, darting around legs and squeezing into tiny spaces in between two people. It was easy, for they were hardly paying attention to what was going on around them, instead gaping at what was going on in front of them. And when she reached the front, she knew what had taken away their focus.

Before the crowd, there stood a Pokemon that Trainers and collectors have only dreamed of, but never seen. Yet here it was, towering over all of them, shielding the harsh sun, but making up for it with the brightness of the flames that danced all over its creamy white feathers. The flames, flickered, not because they were dying, but because they were so  _ alive _ . They moved in an irregular heartbeat, changing from red, to orange, to yellow, to red. They haloed the Pokemon’s slim form, making it seem like it was glowing. Its blue eyes glowed, too, reflecting the light of the flames, falling, growing, falling, and then growing again. Its body radiated waves of heat, heat that was sometimes warming, but sometimes deadly. 

The Pokemon was one seen in an old legend, and it was called the Flame Pokemon. Moltres.

For a while the people stood still, taking in the exquisite beauty of the Pokemon, recoiling at the danger its presence posed. The Pokemon opened its beak, shooting flames towards one of them, who had a greedy glint in his eye and a Great Ball in his hand. His Pokemon took the hit, and fell to the ground, unconscious. The crowd inhaled sharply, their thudding hearts beating almost as one. The boy stared at his fainted Pokemon with huge, wide eyes. Colour drained from his face, and he picked up his Pokemon, shoved his way through the crowd, and ran.

As though they were one organism, the people moved away from the fire Pokemon, their fear hanging so thick in the air around them that it was palpable. Only one remained where she was, watching the Pokemon, eyes wide in wonder. It was as though she could see the gentle rise and fall of the Pokemon’s chest, following the steady rhythm of its breaths and quickening when someone made a sudden movement. But that was not the only thing she could see. Her sharp eyes saw also what the other people did not - the scars on its wing, thin, red, and crossing over one another in a pattern of repeating squares. A net.

Slowly, with all eyes on her, the girl took a few small steps closer, like in a dream. But her head was held high, and her eyes flashed when they reflected the glow of the Pokémon’s flames. 

“Moltres!” She shouted to get its attention, and her voice seemed to echo throughout the silent town. It turned to face here, and when she met its blue eyes, her voice wavered, but she stood still. “My name is Candela. I want to help you.”

The bird blew another jet of flames from its beak as a response. Taken by surprise, she dived to the side to dodge, skidding on the rough tiles. They scraped at her arms and knees, and only years of training herself for combat stopped any sound from escaping her throat. She stood up, slowly, painfully.

“I want to help you,” she repeated. “ _ We _ -“ looking around at the crowd “-want to help you. Please calm down.”

The next jet of flames was so close to her face that she could feel the heat grazing her skin. This was a Pokemon of pure, absolute power. The next time she met its eyes, the fear was gone, replaced by admiration. It had been injured, and many other Pokemon in its place would have gladly accepted help. Yet, it remained fighting. It refused to back down.

Her voice was calm the next time she spoke. “You have gone through a lot, Moltres. And you do not trust us. I understand that. But you have to let us help. None of us left here would harm you. You have to believe me, Moltres! We would never-  _ never _ do such a thing. And -“

Her chin tilted that little bit higher.

“And - if I break my word, and harm comes to you while you are here -“ her voice shook, but she went on, “you may break me. Encase me in your flames and fury. I give you my promise. Trust me.”

A collective gasp went through the townspeople, who had seemed to be extremely shaken when Moltres arrived, and, though the temperature was far from ideal, were behaving like a Bose-Einstein condensate. But this time, it was not without reason. A promise like that, if broken, would result in the end of the young girl’s life. And why, they wondered, had she said that the Pokemon had gone through a lot? Sure, rampaging and angry legendary Pokemon didn’t appear around those parts very often, but they were still stumped by her words, worst-case scenarios flashing through their brains and hiding the truth from their frazzled minds.

Hardly any of them would remember what she said, though. What would be imprinted into their minds forever, is this. 

Moltres bent down to stare at Candela. For a long time, everyone was silent, waiting. Then, in a sudden, fluid movement, it reached out and brushed the tip of its wing, the flame at the tip of its wing, down her body. A shriek rang out from within the crowd as she seemed to be surrounded by flames.

But they needn’t have worried, for the inferno didn’t hurt her once.


End file.
